


Solstice

by ladywiltshire



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9318314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywiltshire/pseuds/ladywiltshire
Summary: Roy tries to discover why Riza doesn’t care for the winter holiday, although he feels he already knows why.





	

Riza startled slightly upon hearing the urgent knock at the door. Hayate’s frantic yelping told her that, indeed, she was not just hearing things. Sighing, she set down the tray of sugar cookies and removed her oven mitts.

“Who is it, Hayate?” she questioned the ecstatic animal.

Of course, she was only testing her companion, as she knew who would be at the door.

The Flame Alchemist allowed his satisfaction at her prompt answer to creep onto his face as a slight grin. Hayate, now uninterested in the guest, retreated to the sweet-smelling kitchen.

“Major…” Roy greeted her with the coldness of a superior officer, reaching pointedly into the inner pocket of his jacket.

She flinched. Firstly, because she was still getting used to being referred to as “Major”. Secondly, she didn’t believe that he had the audacity to have brought her a gift. His gloved hand withdrew from his coat. In his grasp was an old, yellowed novel.

“Happy Solstice!” His tone lightened and he flashed his teeth obnoxiously, clearly believing that he had fooled his subordinate. Playing along was, unfortunately, not something that Riza was in the mood for.

“Happy Solstice,” she replied in flat formality. “You know, General,” she huffed as she took her gift. “You act as though I haven’t learned how to read you like a book.”

She playfully waved the novel in his face to emphasize the cliché metaphor. Roy sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair. Riza allowed herself to smile. For some reason, he was nervous.

“I should know better than to think I could fool you.” Roy paused. “May I come in?”

“Of course.”

Riza stepped aside, granting him entry. The door creaked shut as Roy scanned her plain apartment, still in boxes. Perhaps it was the subconscious effect of the cold weather, but the abode seemed sadder than usual. He breathed in deeply, letting the scent of Riza’s baked goods whisk him back to crisp, snowy evenings at the Hawkeye estate.

“Still baking, I see,” he observed.

Riza gestured to the empty chair at her kitchen table as she resumed her task. “Yes.”

“How many batches this time?”

“Three dozen.”

Roy chuckled as he sat. “Well, they should keep Breda busy for at least a few hours.”

Riza shook her head, only amused. She turned to the oven.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your impromptu visit, General?”

Roy leaned his head into his hand, watching her.

“To be entirely truthful, Hawkeye… I thought you could use some fresh air. I can’t have anyone on my team holing up on the shortest day of the year.”

Roy leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting from Riza’s back to the leash that hung by the entrance. His eyes darted to Hayate, who was now quite interested in the General. His tail twitched in anticipation.

“I appreciate your concern, Sir,” Riza responded softly. “However, I really don’t mind laying low amongst the festivities.”

Roy tilted his head toward the door, eyes wide in mock excitement, and Hayate could bear it no longer. His tail erupted in wags, and he ran to the entrance, whining. Riza blankly stared into Hayate’s pleading eyes as he sat by his leash. She sighed. Roy winked at Hayate as Riza walked to the door and reached for her coat.

“Don’t confuse yourself,” Riza slanted her eyes towards Roy as the leash swung in her grasp. He titled his head in innocent misunderstanding.

“We’re walking for Hayate, not me.”

An incredulous smile escaped from Roy before he could help himself. “Okay.”

“Turn the oven off, please,” Riza requested.

 

“I’ve never seen so much red, green, and white in my life,” Riza muttered under her breath.

“You really do stay in on this holiday, don’t you?” Roy mused.

Thankfully for Riza, the lights strung along the streetlamps along with the misty flurry of snowflakes dimmed the gaudy colors. Combined with children squealing in the streets, couples talking of sweet-nothings, friends enjoying a night out, and whole families corralling each other, the environment was enough to distract anyone from decoration. Hayate eagerly led the way through the jungle of city dwellers.

Riza felt alien in such a place, the occasion aside. Wandering the streets of Central as a civilian was always a strange sensation — like staring into a looking glass. She knew that Roy could feel it, too. To her, it was espionage into an illusion. Perhaps some unforeseen, horrific event would ambush them at any moment: the universe’s way of further removing them from the sort of lives they observed around them. A woman wrangled three squealing children from the steps of bakery. She couldn’t have been much older, if at all older, than Riza. Further down the street, a young man with slick black hair embraced a red-haired beauty, their breath forming a singular mist in the night air. If he hadn’t been right beside her, Riza could have mistaken the man for Roy.

Roy cleared his throat, bringing her back from her domestic safari.

“Why don’t we head down that way?” He asked.

Riza turned towards where Roy had nodded his head. She frowned.

“The church district?”

“Of course.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because,” Roy gently steered her to cross the street. “Everyone there is too busy praying to be outside.”

Riza smiled, grateful for his understanding. “I see.”

Just before rounding the corner, a vendor wheeling a cart lavishly decorated with holly, ivy, and evergreen boughs nearly missed colliding with them. Hayate yelped in surprise.

“Ah!” The vendor, a rotund gentleman with an immaculate white mustache, greeted them. “So sorry, folks! A second later and we might’ve had an accident on our hands!”

Roy and Riza exchanged bewildered glances, then turned to smile at the man for politeness’ sake.

“Not a problem, really!” Roy waved his hand dismissively.

“Thank you for understanding!” The man spoke a mile a minute. He unceremoniously dropped his cart. A compartment plunked open, steam escaping into the cold. “How about some hot chocolates for the happy couple on this wonderful Solstice?”

While this was far from the first occurrence of the “couple” assumption, Roy and Riza felt the tinge of embarrassment every time. They had, however, long surpassed the point of correcting perfect strangers.

“Yes, thank you,” Riza smiled cheekily and reached into her pocket.

“Erm, that’s not necessary, really…” Roy mumbled to her.

“Consider it my Solstice gift to you,” she replied as her wallet emerged.

“Oh-ho! I see who wears the pants!” the vendor laughed heartily as he handed two steaming cups to an irked Roy. Riza lightly kicked Roy’s boot as she saw his jaw clench at the comment.

“That’ll be 500 cens!” He held out a stout, well-manicured hand.

“Geez…” Roy made sure his disdain was audible.

Riza handed him the money without argument. The man tipped his hat to her in appreciation as he dropped the money into a healthy sized coin purse.

“Thank you! Happy Solstice!”

“Happy Solstice.” Roy irritably handed Riza her drink.

They continued on, cringing slightly as they heard the vendor call out to his next victim.

“You didn’t have to do that, Hawkeye,” Roy nudged her with his elbow.

“Just enjoy your gift, Sir,” Riza nudged him back as Hayate whimpered for the sweet-smelling treats in his master’s possession.

At last, they rounded the corner to the church district, and stopped in their tracks at the sight before them. It was a scene from a postcard. The snow lay sleepily upon awnings and bell towers, undisturbed and reverent. Even Hayate observed the fresh paw-prints he left in the snow with quiet awe.

“It’s beautiful,” Riza whispered. Her breath clouded the air around them and melted the snowflakes near her lips.

“It is,” Roy agreed. “Shall we?”

He led the way down the street. Riza was grateful to only hear the crunching of the snow and Hayate’s panting. She gazed to Roy out of the corner of her eye. This was the world she knew.

“Forgive me if this is too personal a question, Major,” Roy began. He caught Riza glancing at him, and she returned to the scenery ahead of her.

“Yes, Sir?”

Roy paused, still deliberating even after her consent.

“Why don’t you like the Solstice?”

Riza sighed. She knew this question had been burning in Roy’s mind for some time.

“You are under no obligation to answer,” Roy said quickly.

“I don’t mind sharing,” Riza responded.

The pair exchanged glances, momentarily forgetting the winter that enveloped them. Roy abruptly looked to the curb, his eyes scaling the large church to their left.

“Care to sit down?” He swept gracefully towards the looming building.

“Uh, well —” Riza was caught off-guard by Roy’s proposal.

“Hayate could use a bit of a treat, anyway.” Roy made himself comfortable on the steps of the church and removed the lid from his hot chocolate, revealing a dollop of whipped cream. Scooping some onto his finger, he beckoned Hayate.

“Hey now, no chocolate!” Riza scolded.

“Relax,” Roy sighed in false exasperation. “It didn’t touch the chocolate!”

Riza shook her head, unable to hide a smirk. She dropped the leash, letting the dog scurry frantically to the sweet treat ahead.

Snow crumpled under her weight as she sat near her superior officer.

“Ah, that’s a little cold,” she murmured to herself.

Roy leaned his elbows back onto the upper levels of the stairs. Hayate still licked around his glove, scouring for another scrap of whipped cream.

“It’s a pleasant change,” he replied.

He reached into the hidden pocket in his coat, and pulled out an engraved flask.

Riza raised an eyebrow.

“Sir?”

Roy grinned impishly at her as he poured the contents into his hot chocolate.

“Oh, live a little, Major…”

The liquor sloshed in the flask as he waved it tantalizingly in her direction. She rolled her eyes. The last time they had shared a drink was at Fuhrer Grumman’s inauguration. Although, “a drink” would hardly cover the amount of champagne that she consumed. From then on, she had decided it was best not to partake in activities that resulted in pounding headaches. Riza had long since lost the resilience of her academy days.

As if Roy were reading her mind, he further prodded, “It’s not like it’s champagne.”

Riza sighed once more, twisting the lid off her beverage and surrendering it to the General.

“Nor is it a whole bottle,” Roy snickered. He emptied the flask into her cup.

Riza returned the devious smile. “You’ll never let me live that down, will you Sir?”

Roy stroked his chin jokingly. “Probably not.”

She felt the sweet burn rise into her throat after her first sip. The hot chocolate was cheaply made, or at least watered down.

“Terrible hot chocolate.” Roy commented.

“Agreed. My apologies for the lackluster Solstice gift,” Riza replied.

Roy patted the empty flask, again secured underneath his coat. “Don’t apologize. We made it work, as usual.”

“Yes, we did.” Riza quietly laughed to herself.

The pair looked quietly out into the street, allowing the conversation to end. Their footprints were the only indication of life. Silence seemed to come from inside the buildings surrounding them, rather than it leaking inside along with the harsh cold.

“It was Berthold,” Riza confessed. “The year after my mom died. I think it was your first year with us.”

Roy nodded, instantly enraptured in her vulnerability. “I thought as much.”

Sensing Riza’s melancholy, Hayate climbed into her lap. The whiskey had now coursed through her body. She felt ethereally warm and open in the evening.

“She loved Solstice. The celebrations, the decorations, the food, the friends. Before she died, she gave me a little ornament — a palomino horse — I remember it so clearly.” She hung in silent memory for a moment as the porcelain ornament flashed into her mind. Roy remained silent.

“Anyway, that year, I wanted Berthold to be unable to tell she was gone. I think now, in retrospect, that I really wanted myself to forget she was gone.”

Roy nodded. She could tell from the red stain on the tip of his nose that he was warmed up as well.

“I remember the whole house was decorated,” he reflected.

“Everything was ready. I don’t remember what happened; I guess I tripped? The horse broke. I couldn’t handle it. I was still so young. All I remember is crying inconsolably.”

Roy’s brow crinkled at her words as though he shared in the pain of her memories. He leaned forward, holding the cup in both hands. His eyes were closed. Hayate was now comfortably nestled on Riza’s lap, breathing softly.

“He – Berthold, told me, ‘People die, Riza. Get over it. People are meant to leave us and we can’t let reminders hold us down’. I went up to my room for the rest of the evening. When I came down the next morning, my horse ornament was gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Major. I do remember that. I wondered if that was the case.”

“Every Solstice I’m reminded of the harsh reality of his words. How many of those I know will be around by the next Solstice?”

Riza’s eyes glazed over. Perhaps Roy’s eyes were playing tricks on him, but the lights seemed dimmer.

“With all due respect, Hawkeye,” Roy started. “Berthold was a brilliant man in a lot of ways. But with you, he was very wrong.”

He shook his head. Riza turned to stare at the General. His eyes were still closed; his brows still furrowed.

“Riza… why do you think these people come to pray in silent churches, when there’s so many merchants outside selling hot chocolate?”

“Sir?”

Roy finally opened his eyes to ensure she answer. She blinked.

“Well… I suppose that it’s because they’re afraid that the sun won’t come up tomorrow.”

Roy’s lips tightened. He nodded. “Why is that?” 

Riza raised her eyebrows.

“We know that the sun will come up. Why do we never worry when the day is long? Only the night?” He clarified.

She pursed her lips in thought.

“Because we would die without the light,” she answered.

“I believe you’re right, Major. And yet, some live in fear that light – that the sun – will abandon us or go out somehow.” Roy continued nodding on and off, affirming himself.

“People seem to forget that some forces feed off each other. Instead, they believe that they oppose each other, or that there are no ties that bind. They project this way of thinking onto the seasons, their peers, their lovers. What about the sun and the moon? Somehow we fool ourselves into thinking that the sun and the moon weren’t meant for each other. Yet, where he goes, she follows. Perhaps it’s because I’m a man of alchemy that I see things in such a way. I’ve never understood the fear of loss, only the pain of loss. Fear is preventable, pain is not.”

Roy paused. He only now seemed conscious of his words.

“I can’t say I know these things for certain… but I know that life is too short to hole up in church on a beautiful winter night.” Roy trailed into silence, set off by his own thoughts. 

Riza took the time to ponder his words. She noticed the thin layer of snow forming on his hair and eyelashes.

“That’s, uh, very philosophical, Sir.”

Roy downed the last of his hot chocolate. “We had a lot of time to think in Ishval.”

Riza followed suit, and finished hers in one large gulp. She crinkled her nose when she realized all of the liquor had sank to the bottom. Hayate sensed that the conversation was over, and jumped off Riza’s lap as Roy stood up. Riza suddenly laughed as he descended the stairs.

Roy turned, confused. “What?”

Riza shook her head. “It’s just, you have a little something – oh, just let me.”

Roy’s cheeks tinted pink as he felt her hand sweep across his backside.

“You had snow all over!” Riza cackeld hysterically. “It was in the perfect shape of a heart!”

Roy wasn’t sure how contagious laughter was, but Riza’s was infectious. He burst out uproariously, picturing how he must have looked.

“Hey, now! Turn around, Hawkeye!”

At this point, Hayate was barking in elation over the joyous noises that flooded the otherwise somber street. Riza obeyed, revealing a perfectly clean behind.

“I already got myself, Sir, but thank you for checking!” she managed out between titters.

The two soldiers headed back the way they came, laughter slowly tapering off as they exited their place of solace.

 

Riza sluggishly opened the door, only to be greeted by an intense wave of heat. Her eyes darted irritably to the General.

“I thought you had turned the oven off.”

“I thought I did.” Roy furrowed his brow in earnest.

Riza sighed resignedly at Roy’s innocent mistake. Shedding the coat from her shoulders and draping it over the table, she stole a glance at the oven. He had turned the oven up.

“I’m sorry,” Roy said, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “I don’t have a good sense of temperature. I wasn’t thinking.”

Riza clicked the oven off. Thankfully, she had removed the last batch before leaving. “Don’t worry about it, Sir.”

She turned to open the window, beads of sweat already pooling on her forehead. Roy proceeded to loosen his scarf.

“At least you won’t be cold tonight,” he muttered.

“No, I suppose I won’t,” Riza twisted her hair into a tight bun and secured it.

Hayate didn’t seem to mind the heat, and was quickly situated into his worn corner of the living room.

Roy’s breath escaped him as Riza’s hair ascended to reveal the long sliver of scar tissue that emblazoned her throat. It was like always forgetting something constant and concrete, like what day of the week it was. The gentle curves of her neck now served as an intermittent reminder as startling as realizing the inevitable passage of time.

As if his body were not his own, he heard his feet advancing towards his subordinate. Riza turned to face him, jerking slightly when she realized he was inches from the tip of her nose. His eyes traced the soft slope of her cheekbones and descended to her jawline, finally resting upon her wound. Riza patiently observed his eyes following the rise and fall of her contours.

He reached his hand up, surprised to see that he had removed his gloves without conscious effort. His fingers curled in submission to her body’s warmth.

“Lieutenant — I mean, Major…” he uttered, his stare fixated upon her neck.

“… May I?” he extended his bare hand.

Roy met her gaze, awash in quiet, strong affirmation. Riza tilted her head, her silken skin stretching the inflexible tissue around her wound. Stupefied, he exhaled once more, his breath speckling the goose bumps that raised along Riza’s neck as he lightly traced his fingers along her scar.

“Does it hurt?” he whispered.

Riza closed her eyes, allowing sensation to momentarily consume her.

“Sometimes.” Her response was almost inaudible.

In that moment, both were thankful for the heat, feeling the inevitable flush of pumping blood.

Silence.

Their chests both rose and fell in sync with the timing of their pulse.

Riza lowered her head once more, and Roy, in mute understanding, relinquished his hand.

“I’ve scarred you twice,” Roy said, his voice scraping like gravel from his dry throat. Riza tensed, exquisitely hiding the pain that welled in her chest.

“With all due respect, General Mustang, Sir…” she inhaled with a quiver. “A commanding officer cannot allow the suffering of his men to dilute his leadership. Pain may be inevitable, but it must not let it endure in our lives.”

She paused. He urged her to continue.

“Our scars are our own to bear.”

She took the hands hanging limply at the Alchemist’s sides. She gripped them in muted affection, running her thumbs over the burnt crimson slashes that adorned his palms.

“The sun cannot compromise the movement of the moon, nor can he control it. There are some forces of nature and flesh that are simply unstoppable.”

Roy felt a surge of chills rush up his arms to ripple down his spine. Riza continued to massage his palms with her thumbs. She looked down at his robust hands, weakened by her touch.

“Does it hurt?” she couldn’t help but smile.

Roy smirked in return.

“Sometimes.”

He squeezed her thumbs, and she let his hands return to his person.

“I apologize if my words offended you,” she returned to her serious demeanor.

Roy put on his gloves once more.

“Think nothing of my feelings, Major. I know as well as you that it is your job.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for everything.”

Hayate’s ears perked as Roy’s footsteps treaded once more to the exit.

“Sorry about the oven.” Roy turned to his subordinate one more time.

“Forget about it, honestly,” she replied warmly.

“Goodnight, Major Hawkeye.”

“Goodnight, General Mustang. Happy Solstice.”

“Happy Solstice.” He bowed his head in a formal farewell, and shut the door behind him.

Riza ensured that Roy’s footsteps could no longer be heard before she halfheartedly bolted the entrance shut. She turned to Hayate. The dog seemed to be too close to the ground to sense the emotion that hung thick in the air.

“Hayate,” Riza addressed firmly.

He raised his head, small eyes eager to please his master.

“Bed time,” she sighed.

Hayate’s obedient paws pitter-pattered to the other half of their home. Riza turned to follow him. She froze when she noticed Roy’s gift in the corner of her vision. She had been too busy teasing him with it to notice the title: Wistful in Wellesley. She grinned in derision as she turned it over to read the premise. The book itself must have been produced with high quality materials — it was surprisingly heavy. After reading a segment off the back, Hayate’s lonely whimpering beckoned her, reminding her that she needed sleep.

 

The oil lamp clicked on, dimly illuminating Riza’s simple bedroom. Hayate wearily circled his resting place before curling into Riza’s right side. She patted him on the head as he closed his eyes. To her left, the book lay next to the lamp, waiting to be read.

She pulled back the hardcover after wordlessly mocking the laughable title once more. She was met with the familiar smell of burnt paper.

Her eyes suddenly widened as she recognized Roy’s handwriting across the blank first page.

“Major Hawkeye,

I’ve had this for a while, knowing what it meant to you. Please forgive me for withholding it for so long. I believe we both understand the value of obtaining something we desire when we need it the most, rather than instantaneously. It is by this mutual understanding that I now return this to its rightful owner. I hope it will be enough for you to pass the longest night.

Your companionship and loyalty can never be replaced, and I am grateful to count on you like I do the seasons. Happy Solstice.

General Mustang”

Her hands trembled with anticipation. Licking her thumb and forefinger, she turned the page. The width of the book had been meticulously burnt down to resemble a box, carefully stuffed with tissue paper.

From the book tumbled a porcelain ornament. A palomino horse.

She tentatively picked up the object to observe it, holding it as if it were a specter that would disappear if she looked at it too hard. She exhaled in disbelief when she noticed the ticks of alchemic markings along what would have been cracks.

She clutched it to her chest and relaxed against her pillow. She felt the chills against the raised ink on her back. She was still warm. Outside, carolers were singing. She wasn’t sure if they had just started, or if she was only now hearing them for the first time.

For the first Solstice since she could remember, Riza Hawkeye cried tears of joy.


End file.
